Love is a Battlefield
by Fergus Mason
Summary: I'd like to thank everyone who's reviewed and favourited this story, but sadly I think it's time for me to admit to myself - and to you - that I don't think it will ever be finished. I'll leave it up until the end of June, and if anyone wants to copy it and run with the story feel free. Perhaps I'll return to it in the future, but right now I don't think that's very likely. Sorry.
1. Chapter 1

Dumbledore was dead. Ron and Hermione had found love together, and were enjoying it fiercely. Ginny… Ginny was too young and innocent to be part of the coming bloodbath. So Harry Potter was forced, for the first time in his life as a wizard, to face the future alone.

This was not a comfortable state of affairs for Harry Potter, as he began his sixth and last summer holiday from Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Unlike any normal boy, Harry hated the summer holiday more than any part of the year. He had good reasons; for two awful months, he was forced to leave the wizarding world and stay with his Muggle relatives — the awful Dursleys. To make things worse, this summer he was being forced to face the consequences of a promise he had made just before school finished.

Harry had sworn that he would not return to Hogwarts after the holiday, but would set out to find and destroy Lord Voldemort, the most powerful Dark Wizard in over a hundred years — the man who had killed Harry's parents and had caused the murders of hundreds of others, the last being Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore had been Harry's Headmaster for all of his six years at Hogwarts, and had been murdered only two weeks ago by Severus Snape — a man he had trusted, employed and protected from accusations of Dark wizardry.

But Dumbledore had been betrayed and killed, cursed by Snape as he lay poisoned and defenceless, and so had fallen the last and greatest of Harry's protectors. Now he faced Voldemort alone. And the Dark Lord was not the weakened thing of Harry's first encounters with him. Now he was restored to his body, and his faithful Death Eaters were once more there to torture and kill for their leader. The war that many had thought had ended with Voldemort's failed attack on the infant Harry was raging again. This time, because of a prophecy made days before Harry was born, it could end only with Harry's death or Voldemort's; the result would be eternal victory for good or evil.

Harry's life had been a short one — only sixteen years — but he had faced a lot in that time. Before his first birthday Voldemort had killed his parents and he had been sent to live with the Dursleys. Then had come ten years of unrelenting misery, until he had discovered on his eleventh birthday that he was a wizard. After that, though, had come a series of further trials.

By the end of his first year at Hogwarts he had faced Voldemort once more, and watched his possessed Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, the luckless Professor Quirrell, die horribly before him. Once, Harry had felt guilt at the role he had played in Quirrell's death, but too many more deaths had followed. Cedric Diggory, blasted by a Death Eater after Harry had helped him to the last trial of the Triwizard Tournament. Sirius Black, his godfather, blown into oblivion as he raced to save Harry from a Dark ambush — falling through the Veil with a smile still on his face. Lastly, Dumbledore himself; the greatest wizard of his generation, Disarmed during the second he had used to immobilise Harry to keep him from harm - then thrown from Hogwarts' highest tower by the Killing Curse.

His soul torn between sickening horror at the trail of death that followed him, and a burning desire to gain his revenge and end Voldemort's reign of terror, Harry had made that rash promise to Ron and Hermione. Although they were an inseparable pair these days (and Harry, if he was honest with himself, could have seen that coming since Fourth Year at the very latest…) they were still his best friends in the whole world.

Harry, stretched out on his bed in what had once been his cousin Dudley's second bedroom, reflected that Ron had been his first real friend and Hermione the second, and that for more than four years they had truly been his only friends. Only they had believed him (usually) and stood by him. Even now, with Ron and Hermione together, the three of them shared a closeness that they all valued more than gold. But…

In the last days of term, in those black times after Dumbledore's funeral, Hermione and Ron had spent more and more of their time together. Harry had, at first, been appalled; however, he had quickly realised that even as their love grew they still had time for their mutual friend. As for the… other times, he found that quite a few people at Hogwarts valued him for more than the lightning-bolt scar on his forehead.

Ginny, accepting the end of their relationship in a very adult manner, still loved to walk the grounds with him. Neville Longbottom, his clumsy classmate of so many years, had gained a new respect in Harry's eyes for his unflinching bravery in the face of lethal Dark magic. Sybill Trelawney, the Divination teacher whom Harry had always despised as a pessimistic fraud, had turned out to be an expert on eighteenth-century Quidditch. When suitably divorced from her rather myopic Inner Eye by a bottle of cooking sherry she was actually quite interesting and, as a brief visit to the library had shown, had gained a lot more respect for her _Analysis of Transylvanian Vampirism Among Chasers In The 1782 World Cup (with special reference to the Bistritsa Bats)_ than she ever had for her ability to predict the future.

Even Luna Lovegood had her better days; dotty as she was, Harry felt a certain bond with Luna. She had, after all, seemed to understand how he felt after Sirius' death. Then in his sixth year, when he had invited her to Slughorn's Christmas party, she had looked so happy just to be there - even though he'd ended up treating her so badly - that he had felt a certain warm glow himself…

Harry shook his head. Why had he thought that? He hadn't treated her badly; he'd told her right from the start that he was taking her as a friend. It wasn't his fault that he'd had to leave the party to trail Malfoy, leaving Luna to talk to Professor Trelawney (although it was unlikely they'd discussed eighteenth-century Quidditch.) What did she expect, and why should she be bothered? After all, by that point in time everyone knew that he'd fancied Ginny. Luna might be daft, but she wasn't stupid; she'd have taken that night the way he'd meant it. She'd been one of a select few invited to the party, and in Sybill Trelawney she'd found someone who might actually believe in the Crumple-Horned Snorkack. Really, he felt that she'd probably had an enjoyable night at that party; he hoped so, after her valiant fight in the Department of Mysteries and her fragile dignity at Dumbledore's funeral. She deserved the recognition that, while she was too weird for Harry's personal taste, she was not too weird to be a decent human being.

However, Harry felt a faint discomfort thinking about Luna, and he knew why. Whatever he told himself to justify his actions he knew that she had stood up for him even when he'd been embarrassed by her behaviour. Yes, she was odd, but… he had to admit it. Odd, but brave. Even Ginny, since he'd split up with her, had… Harry couldn't really understand what Ginny had meant, but it seemed as if Harry's decision to end their relationship had left Ginny free to talk about other things. She hadn't mentioned Luna, her friend, once — she had no reason to think Harry cared, after all. However, when Harry had idly commented that Luna had looked good at Slughorn's party, Ginny had stared straight into his eyes without a hint of jealousy and said, simply, "For you, Harry."

Harry shook his head wearily. There was no point in wasting his time with trivia. Right now he had two very important decisions to make. Firstly, should he keep that hasty promise, or should he return to Hogwarts? Was he ready to face Voldemort, or should he go back for his last year and learn skills that might help him? And secondly, now that he had returned to the Dursley's house and stayed there for a week, could he now escape back into his own world and spend the rest of the summer with Ron? Well, there was no way to answer either question without writing a letter. He sat up and reached under his bed for a roll of parchment, a quill and an inkwell

_Dear Hermione_

This is a difficult question to ask you, because I know what you'll say already (only joking!) but I don't really know what to do now. Despite what I said to you and Ron, I don't know if I'm ready to leave Hogwarts. I know that I have to beat Voldemort somehow, but I can't do it alone. I never had to do it alone before, because Dumbledore was always there, but now he's gone. I know that I have to fight him, but is it better to find him now or to do my NEWT year and face him as a fully trained wizard? Hermione, I don't care about exam results any more, but do you think that, in NEWT year, I can learn enough to improve my chances?

I hope I'll be at The Burrow by the time you get this, so send your answer there. I'm writing to Ron as well and I'll tell Hedwig to go there first, so you can send her back with an answer.

Love

Harry

Hi Ron

How are you mate? I don't have a lot of time because I want to get Hedwig sent off before the Muggles finish watching Brookside (ask your Dad!) but is it OK if I come and stay with you for the rest of the holidays? I've been thinking, and I might go back for NEWT year. Ask your Mum for me, would you?

Cheers

Harry

Harry rolled up both pieces of parchment, and rose to go to Hedwig's cage. Then he stopped, sat down again. If Hedwig was going to Ottery St Catchpole with a letter for Ron, it wouldn't hurt to write a quick note to the only other magical person he knew in that village.

_Dear Luna_

Hello, how are you? I'm sending Hedwig to Ron's and as you live nearby I thought I'd say hello.

Anyway, I hope your OWLs went well. Do you have the results yet? Ginny told me you should get at least four Os and the rest would all be Es. I wish I had done as well!

Please don't write back, because I am hopefully leaving my Muggle relatives' house soon and going to stay with Ron. If I go back to school I'll see you on September the first, and if not I'll get in touch with you anyway. See you later!

Love

Harry

He rolled up the final parchment, tucked all three into Hedwig`s message pouch and sent her on her way.

He didn't know it, but he had just changed the path of his life. Three years in the future, a grave was not dug. Molly Weasley's heart attack didn't happen. A year later Hermione married Ron instead of committing suicide.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Not my characters, obviously. If you need me to tell you that I doubt you'd have found your way here but never mind, we have to keep the lawyers happy.**

For Harry, the next five days passed far too slowly. After the traumas of last summer — Dudley's Dementor attack would never leave his mind — he didn't like to leave the Dursley's house very much any more. He'd paid two visits to Arabella Figg, mostly to show his gratitude for her help with the Dementors, but apart from that he'd mostly confined himself to the house (which, unlike Mrs Figg's, didn't smell of incontinent elderly cats). The toys and games which littered his room were the ones Dudley no longer wanted, meaning they were broken, so he'd actually gone back to his old school books and spent many hours studying. If his final decision agreed with Hermione's predictable advice, those hours would be a big help to him.

On the sixth day, he was lying on his bed idly transfiguring the lampshade into a pumpkin and back again, when two things happened in quick succession.

Firstly, Hedwig returned, looking extremely put out. The reason for that was instantly clear; she was accompanied by what appeared to be a small, hooting ball of feathered madness. Harry, however, recognised this creature as Ron's owl, Pigwidgeon, and tossed him a pair of Owl Treats as Hedwig settled on top of her cage. He also noted that both owls had parchment scrolls in their message pouches. He opened Hedwig's first.

_Dear Harry_

Thanks for asking my advice, even if you think you know in advance what I'll say!

As it happens you're right; I do think you should stay at Hogwarts. Even if Trelawney's prophecy is true, and you must kill Voldemort, I'm sure you'll find it easier after what you'll learn in the next year. In the meantime, Professor McGonagall will likely be Headmistress and, not meaning any disrespect, she'll be at least as able to keep the school safe as Dumbledore was.

Please come back to school, Harry. It's best for us all.

Oh, and I told Hedwig to try the Dursley's first, just in case. Hope that was OK!  


_Take care_

Hermione

Well, that was as expected. Harry folded the parchment and tucked it under his pillow. Then he took the message from Pigwidgeon.

_Hi Mate!_

Sure, you can come here. Hope it hasn't been too bad by the Muggles. Not much better here sometimes, what with all the trouble, but Mum says you're as welcome as ever.

H will be here next week, and the twins said they'd drop by for a couple of days to see you. They reckoned you'd want to avoid London as much as possible.

Oh yeah! Guess who I met in the village the other day? Your old friend Loony Lovegood! You might have to watch yourself there mate, she even asked if I could say hello to you. She's a weird one. Still has the radish earrings and everything!

Let us know when you want to come, and we'll pick you up.

Ron

Harry grinned. So, he was still welcome at The Burrow. Well, he'd get started on a reply to Ron's letter right away, even if he'd totally ignore every reference to (Loony) Luna.

He frowned slightly; he did wish that Ron wouldn't call her that. It wasn't really fair…

The doorbell rang.

The doorbell didn't ring often at the Dursley's; Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia didn't seem to have an over-abundance of friends, and when Dudley wanted to meet up with his gang he tended to arrange it on the telephone. However, Harry still wasn't greatly interested; whoever the caller was looking for, it wouldn't be him.

His interest, however, increased slightly as he heard his uncle's greeting.

"Hello, goo….. urgh! Hrmph! Day." That last word came out as cold as ice.

The next words, however, were soft and dreamy: "Hello, is Dudley there?"

Harry sat bolt upright on the bed. That was… asking for Dudley… was that Luna Lovegood's voice! Gods, why was she asking for… what was she doing here? No, it couldn't be her. Dudley must have found himself a girlfriend from his cider-drinking, cigarette-smoking set…

"Er… yes, he's here. DUDDERS! Your friend's here for you!"

Harry laughed quietly. Whoever the scutter was who was looking for Dudley, Uncle Vernon's voice shouted loudly that he didn't approve and there would be Words Spoken Later.

From downstairs came the sounds of Dudley hauling his considerable bulk out of an armchair, then a pause. After the pause, he heard Dudley's suddenly eager voice: "Hi! Who… er, how are you?"

"Hello Dudley!" said the soft voice, "I'm so sorry, I don't know you and I don't think I like you very much. I just wanted to see if you were as much of a complete… is arse really a word?... horse's arse as Harry always says. I think you are; that's right, isn't it? "

Harry stopped laughing and buried his head in his hands. No cider, no cigarettes. That was authentic, unique and completely tactless Lovegood. Oh gods.

Downstairs, the sound of Dudley's sudden choking fit was interrupted by the calm, feminine voice; "So is Harry here? I do hope so, I have something for him."


	3. Chapter 3

Harry looked desperately around his room. What could he do? Quite clearly, Luna Lovegood had turned up and was looking for him. This made the thought of spending even a minute more at No 4 Privet Drive completely unthinkable; he'd already seen Uncle Vernon's reaction to Arthur Weasley, who by Muggle standards was a reasonably acceptable wizard. Luna, however, was regarded as odd by the wizarding world; her effect on a stuffy, middle-aged drill salesman… no! He had to get out of here now! He started to grab his dirty clothes off the floor and stuffed them into his trunk. Spotting a roll of Spellotape in the bottom of the trunk, he grabbed it and tossed it onto his bed; he could use that to strap the trunk to his Firebolt. That would make it easier when he fled out the window…

He stopped and shook his head wearily. No, he couldn't do that. Luna might be a pain, but she had taken the trouble to visit him. More than that, should he care about Uncle Vernon's feelings above those of someone who had risked her life just because he had asked her to? If he did that he was no better than the likes of Malfoy; a selfish bastard who only cared about himself. Was that what Mum and Dad had died for? No chance.

Harry straightened up (not realising that doing so made him, now, taller than Uncle Vernon) and walked to the door of his room. He paused for a second with his hand on the door handle, then opened it and walked down the stairs.

Uncle Vernon stood at the open front door, one hand gripping the handle so hard that his knuckles had turned white. Dudley was two paces behind him, shaking with what Harry recognised as a combination of disappointment and spoilt rage.

Luna Lovegood stood in the doorway.

When Harry saw her, his breath hitched in his throat for a moment. Luna was wearing a set of sky-blue robes of some silky fabric that clung to her slim body. On any other witch the effect would have been indescribable, but Luna had added to it in her own special way. She still wore those damn earrings which so resembled a pair of orange radishes; her wand was pinned through the loose bun she had made of her long blonde hair and she was wearing a pair of bangles decorated with real singing imps. Uncle Vernon looked stunned, and Dudley's expression, after a second look, probably contained more thwarted lust than disappointment. Because for a brief moment, to Harry, Luna looked… beautiful.

But she didn't know much about common sense and, as usual, her sanity couldn't be taken for granted either. Harry braced himself, stepped forward and said, "Hi, Luna! Come on upstairs."

Luna looked at the foot of the stairs and saw Harry. Instantly, her huge pale eyes bulged with excitement and her smile beamed out at him. "Hello, Harry! Aren't you going to introduce me to your family?"

Was he? He supposed so. "Luna, this is my uncle, Vernon Dursley; you, er, already know my cousin Dudley. Uncle, Dudley, this is Luna Lovegood, a friend of mine from school."

Uncle Vernon's face turned a deeper purple than ever and seemed to swell with fury. "I thought so! I told you, boy, I don't even want you to mention that school in this house, let alone bring your… friends here!"

Harry felt his own temper rising now. "But I didn't bring her here! She just turned up!"

Luna nodded happily. "That's right, Mr Dursley! I was on my way to London to meet my father and I thought I'd drop in and say hello to Harry. I got his address from his owl, you see."

Uncle Vernon looked confused for a moment. Obviously, Harry hadn't arranged this; the boy was visibly nervous and surprised. However, there was still this _person_ on his doorstep. She couldn't stay there; what would the neighbours think? But if he tried to send her away, she might create a scene. And she looked… powerful. Any scene she caused was likely to be a spectacular one.

He stepped aside and said, in a strained voice, "Pleased to meet you, er, Luna. Well, up you go!"

Luna beamed at him and said, "Thank you, Mr Dursley!" Then she stepped past him, slipped her arm through Harry's and led him, unresisting, up the stairs to his room.

Harry closed the bedroom door and sat down on his bed. Luna settled beside him, stretched her shoulders then relaxed, smiling her maddening smile at him. She sat watching him for what seemed a long time, with that familiar look of permanent astonishment in her wide misty eyes, then spoke abruptly. "I wasn't going to London, but I did bring something for you."

He nodded. "OK. So what is it then?"

Luna's smile grew wider, showing her neat little teeth. "I brought you a letter from Mrs Weasley. Do you want to read it?"

Harry nodded again, then watched as Luna unclipped a small bag from the back of her snake-clasped belt, searched inside it and removed a sealed, rolled parchment. She handed it to him and he broke the seal and unrolled the letter.

_Dear Harry,_

I know that you're not happy with your relatives (Arthur has told me what they're like) so of course, you're very welcome to come here. There will be some of your friends here too; Hermione is already here, and Luna will be staying with Ginny. Bill and Fleur are still with us, and I know that you like them both. Best of all, George and Fred are coming to stay for a week, and although I worry about them they make life so much more interesting!

After all that's happened I don't think it's a good idea for us to come and pick you up, so Arthur has connected your uncle's fireplace to the Floo network again; Luna has a packet of powder that will bring you here.

See you soon, and TAKE CARE!

Molly Weasley

Harry looked up. "So, you're here to take me to The Burrow?"

Luna nodded. "Yes. If you want me to, I am. Do you want to go there? If you do, let's go now. Right now! Shall we Floo or shall we fly?"

Harry thought for a moment. The last time he'd used the Floo network to leave the Dursley's, it had resulted in the demolition of half the living room. On the other hand, Mrs Weasley had been quite clear that this was how he was supposed to travel to The Burrow. What should he do? Well, five minutes ago he'd been ready to fly away. It was always an option.

"Luna, can you sit behind me on my broom? Would that be OK?"

She nodded. "Of course I can, Harry. We can strap your trunk and Hedwig's cage on; look, there's some Spellotape!"

Harry followed her eyes. The Spellotape lay on his bed where he'd thrown it. It felt like Fate was pushing him. Well, rather than being pushed he'd try to keep ahead. He stood, grabbed the roll of tape and hauled his Firebolt from under his bed. The sleek broom immediately sprang to life and floated at waist height, waiting for him to climb on. Regretting that he had to treat this thoroughbred as a beast of burden, he hauled his trunk under the Firebolt and gently pushed the broom down. When its handle touched the lid of the trunk he let it go and unrolled two feet of Spellotape. Biting the length off, he used it to stick the broom handle to the trunk. Immediately the Firebolt rose again, this time with the heavy trunk hanging beneath its bristles. Harry bit off another foot of tape, and secured Hedwig's cage under the front of the broomstick. He opened the cage door, but Hedwig merely gave him a disgusted look and took off, flying out the open window. Well, that meant that she'd rather fly to The Burrow under her own power, and he couldn't blame her for that; he was about to do exactly the same. He closed the cage again and straddled the broom, sitting well forward to balance the weight of his trunk. And the weight of…

"OK, Luna, are you coming? Let's go!"

She stood, swung a leg over the broomstick and linked her arms softly around his waist. The Firebolt dipped, his trunk touching the floor again, and then rose to a hover once more as it compensated for the extra weight. Harry wrapped his Invisibility Cloak around them, tucking it under their bodies so it wouldn't blow away in flight, and then kicked off from the floor. The Firebolt bobbed up and floated expectantly. He leaned forward and the broom began to move, drifting towards the window. He rolled slightly to the right, to make sure he would clear the window frame, and then suddenly he was outside his room and cruising slowly above Privet Drive.

The Firebolt felt heavy, but that was to be expected when a professional racing broom was burdened with two people and a heavy trunk. He looked back and asked, "Luna, I only just thought of this, but do you know the way?"

She nodded. "Yes, we want to head for Norwich first. Go north-east. When we get to Norfolk I'll guide you."

Harry pulled the tip of the broom up. The Firebolt climbed obediently, and he leaned slightly to the right until the brass compass Hermione had given him indicated that he was heading north-east. Then he leaned forward again and the Firebolt gained speed, slowly at first and then more confidently, until they were streaking towards Norwich at more than a hundred and fifty miles an hour.

It wasn't a long flight, but Harry was always conscious of Luna's arms around his waist. She held him lightly, as if confident in his flying skills, and she never once tried to develop any intimacy from her grasp. That was something he remembered about Ginny; whenever she'd held him her hands had always been restlessly moving, running over his ribs and back, as if trying to possess every inch of him. Luna, though, simply held that loose grip that told him she trusted him to fly her safely to Ron's house…

Why was he thinking about this? Luna was a friend, a strange girl who had, for reasons of her own, stood by him in the face of danger. Harry knew where his heart lay; it was with Ginny, and the only reason he'd left her was because he couldn't bear to expose her to the danger that lay ahead. Whatever had happened with Cho, Ginny was his first and surely his only love. Maybe one day, if he could defeat Voldemort, they could be together again; he hoped so, with all his heart. Smiling at the memory of his first kiss with Ginny, Harry relaxed and leaned back slightly. Luna tightened her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder.

_Perhaps it is possible for someone to love two people at once. I don't know. I couldn't do it. What I do know is that love is the most powerful force in the universe. It is capable of crossing any distance and smashing down any wall. Nothing should stand in front of a lover on their way to their beloved; they will either succeed in their quest or go, willingly and smiling, to their own destruction. I have found the only man I could ever love, and I know this. Look out world; I am Luna Lovegood, I am in love and I am on my way!_

Luna tapped him on the shoulder and pointed down. She said, loud against the rush of the wind, "That's Wroxham. Turn left and follow the river. We're only a few minutes away now."

Harry obediently leaned left. In front of him the River Bure lay clear, a winding strip of black water with holiday homes spaced along its south bank. He maintained his height, but let his speed fall to around seventy. With the extra weight of Luna and his trunk, he didn't want to be making any high-speed manoeuvres.

Ten minutes after Wroxham, Luna tapped his shoulder again. "That's Horning down there. When you get to the first pub go right until we're flying north-west. Five minutes later you'll see Ottery St Catchpole."

Harry scanned the river five thousand feet below. Yes, there was a definite pub, with a beer garden and an old paddle steamer tied to the dock beside it. He banked the Firebolt smoothly north-west and looked ahead. He could see nothing but the flat land of Norfolk spread below him; however, in the promised five minutes he spotted the cluster of low hills that surrounded Ottery St Catchpole. Already he could make out the crooked top storeys of The Burrow above the hills; he leaned forward, and the Firebolt began its descent.

Three minutes later he was hovering over the front yard of The Burrow, letting the broom slowly sink to the ground.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: No, I still don't own any of the characters or anything. If I did I'd be sailing round Bermuda on my yacht.**

The yard was the same as ever. Old Wellingtons and rusty cauldrons were scattered around. They had been joined by an old-fashioned red telephone box which stood near the front door; it seemed that Mr Weasley hadn't given up his enthusiasm for Muggle things. Harry had to wonder what the box did now; he vividly remembered Mr Weasley's unique modifications to his old Ford Anglia, and it wouldn't surprise him if the telephone box had also been given amazing but slightly dangerous magical powers. At the moment, though, it was occupied only by two chickens that appeared to have got in through a broken pane of glass.

Harry pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and held the broom at a low hover so Luna could dismount, then jumped off himself. He turned to Luna to ask if she was all right after the trip, but didn't have time to say a word before the front door of The Burrow burst open and what seemed like the whole world descended on him, all yelling joyously.

Ron, looking taller than ever, grabbed Harry's hand and pumped it furiously. "Hi, mate! Good to have you back. After what happened, I didn't know if I'd ever see you again! I thought you'd be off after you-know-who by now…" Then he ducked as a loud explosion blasted out behind him.

Harry grinned at his friend. "Never mind you-know-who, it looks like the twins have tried to do better than U-No-Poo." He nodded towards the front door.

Ron turned to look. It appeared that Fred and George had planned to welcome Harry with one of their less safe products; at any rate, they were both lying sprawled in a cloud of green smoke and from the look of things their legs were well on the way to turning into mermaids' tails. Ron laughed, and turned back to Harry. "The Fishy Fantasies still aren't working too well. They say they got the idea from you at the Triwizard, but I reckon they used some dodgy Gillyweed when they made this batch. Don't worry, they'll be fine if we dump them in the horse trough for an hour."

Then Harry was swamped in Mrs Weasley's tearful embrace, and Hermione's more sisterly one. Bill, his scars now faded enough to look rakish rather than disfiguring, grinned (wolfishly?) and clapped him on the back. Fleur descended on him in a faint cloud of Chanel and garlic: "Oooh 'Arry! Eet eez so good to see you again!" and he submitted to be kissed repeatedly on both cheeks. At the same time, it pleased him somehow that Ginny hugged Luna, and kissed her cheek in a more restrained and less Gallic way, before she turned to embrace him. Luna had brought him here; his arrival shouldn't eclipse hers. He smiled at her as Ginny wrapped her arms round his shoulders. Luna didn't look at him, but the corners of her full mouth twitched vaguely upwards as she stood, alone again, watching the Weasley's chickens peck hopefully at Harry's trunk.

_He is more than a man to them, and at the same time less; he is a symbol. A symbol of something pure and good, and they love him for that, and they are not wrong. Me? No, I am not wrong either. I love the good I feel in him, I love his strength, but I also love the weakness I have seen — the way his heart can rule his head. I could cover that for him, help him and let him use his strength. I am Luna Lovegood, and I will protect the man I love! _

Life at The Burrow was as satisfying as ever to Harry; he had always loved the air of cheerful chaos that filled the old house. To welcome him, Mrs Weasley was putting on lunch in the garden; the two long old tables had been set up and were already groaning with food. There was a roast suckling pig; a huge dish of sausages, their crispy skins glistening with fat; a steak and ale pie; several roast chickens… then there were roast, mashed and boiled potatoes, honeyed carrots and an enormous bowl of green salad. Fleur had assisted by making a bowl of dressed green beans, and even Luna had produced a potato salad that she claimed to have learned while hunting some damn non-existent creature with her father in Germany; certainly it contained enough cholesterol and pickles to be an authentic German recipe. Harry had managed to persuade Mrs Weasley to let him do some chipolatas wrapped in bacon to go with the chickens; the persuasion had taken a lot more effort than the cooking, even allowing for the fact that he'd cooked without magic.

And now he sat there, between Ron and George. Hermione was on Ron's other side, and Ginny… well, she was between Fred and Fleur, three places down on the other side of the table. She'd been about to sit down opposite him, then she'd suddenly stood up again, and offered that seat to…

Was this some conspiracy against him? No, surely not; Ginny wouldn't…

Luna beamed at him as he loaded his plate with food, her eyes shining wide and silver in the candlelight. "I hear Scrimgeour came to visit the last time you were here," she said. "Weren't you shocked when he took over as Minister! He forced Fudge to step down, you know."

Harry knew what was coming, but one thing he had always noticed about Luna was the dreadful urge people had to hear what she said next, and a helpless part of his mind now obeyed it.

"How did he do that?"

"Oh, it was simple!" Luna exclaimed, her voice starting to rise with excitement, "He threatened to reveal the truth about Fudge's vendetta against goblins. You remember, Harry! You read that article in _The Quibbler_ the day we first met. Well, my father could never prove that Fudge was trying to take over at Gringotts, but Scrimgeour found the proof and he threatened to release it unless Fudge resigned as Minister. So of course Fudge had no choice. I mean, imagine what would happen if people found out how he'd tried to control the only wizard bank in Britain!"

Harry thought for a moment. Compared to many of Luna's theories that one was almost believable – if you didn't know that it came from an article in her father's magazine. Hermione, though, had no such reservations. She leaned forward and said severely, "Come on Luna, we all know Fudge has faults, but really… all the stuff your father wrote about him and the Gringotts goblins? How could anyone believe any of that?"

Luna, totally unruffled, replied, "The truth is sometimes hard to accept, Hermione, but it's still the truth."

Hermione snorted with laughter. "Yes, but that's not the truth! Honestly Luna, sometimes you really need to get a grip of yourself about this stuff."

Harry groaned. Now here they went. He opened his mouth to tell Hermione to leave it, but a quiet, tired voice beat him to it.

"Actually Hermione, she's pretty much right."

Silence fell on their end of the table and they all turned to look at Arthur Weasley.

Mr Weasley gave a weary grin. "Yes, I read the article about 'Goblin Crusher' Fudge. Well, I've known Cornelius Fudge for a long time. He's not really a bad man (Ron gave a little snort of disbelief) and I'm sure he's never had goblins cooked in a pie or anything like that, but there's some truth in it. He did try to take control of Gringotts."

Hermione's face started to turn slightly mutinous at this, and Luna's burned with excitement at the thought of one of her theories being confirmed by a senior Ministry wizard (Harry could see the _Quibbler _ headline in his mind already), but Mr Weasley went on calmly. "Fudge was running into some trouble since the Triwizard, as you all know, and he needed good publicity. Well, he spent the Ministry's whole media budget in about two months, buying articles in the Daily Prophet, and he needed more cash. So he tried to push a law through to give the Ministry executive power over all Gringotts vaults. Especially those belonging to wizards who were judged to 'openly oppose good order in the magical community.'"

There was silence for a moment, and then a chorus of gasps as the meaning sank in. Mr Weasley smiled again. "That's right, Harry. It would have given Fudge the power to seize Sirius' money (because he was judged anti-Ministry) and if you read it closely, well, he could have taken yours and mine too."

Harry glanced quickly at Luna, expecting her to be delighted at this vindication of her theories, but to his surprise she looked quite alarmed.

"But why would you be called anti-Ministry, Mr Weasley? Are you part of the Rotfang Conspiracy too?" Luna asked.

Mr Weasley blinked and shook his head. "No, Luna. There isn't any… look, Harry, can you squeeze down a bit?"

Harry nodded, and Mr Weasley moved from his seat at the head of the table to sit down on the bench beside Harry. Thus placed, he could look directly across the table into the eyes of the blonde opposite him. This is exactly what he did.

"Luna," he said, "Have you heard people talk about the Marauders? About James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and… the other one?"

Luna nodded and said, calmly, "Yes, of course."

Mr Weasley nodded. "Well, I was never one of that group. Not until later, when the Order was formed. I was three years ahead of them at school, you know. But… I had a best friend at Hogwarts too, Luna. His name is Xenophilius Lovegood. He's your father. Luna… when did your father start _The Quibbler_?"

Luna frowned for a moment, then looked up brightly. "When I was eleven, Mr Weasley. Just after I went to Hogwarts."

Mr Weasley nodded. "Yes. I talked to your father after your mother died, and I know how hard it was for him. Then, when you went to school, he was left alone. Luna… for two years you'd been all that was left of your father's family, and then you went away. That was… hard for him. Listen, Luna, I know you're one of the cleverest of Ron's friends (Harry glanced at Ron, who looked completely baffled; Hermione, however, flushed slightly) and it's long past the time when you should know some things."

**A/N: The next update won't be as quick, I'm afraid. I've now edited and posted most of what I'd already written, so from now on I'm limited to the speed of my imagination. I'll try not to keep you waiting too long though.**


End file.
